


Protection of The Father

by RoeDusk



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Gen, Loyalty, Ring of the Lucii (Final Fantasy XV), Sacrifice, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 01:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoeDusk/pseuds/RoeDusk
Summary: Before the thought even crossed his mind Nyx knew how it would go.Of course, in the end it didn't go even close to the way he was expecting.





	Protection of The Father

Running a bar had taught Nyx Ulric threat assessment long before Kingsglaive training honed the skill into the razor edge it was today. These days, years after Galahd’s fall, the assessment, countermeasures, calculating odds of success, were so ingrained that even during downtime he struggled to turn it off. In the middle of a city turned warzone it was impossible not to see his remaining options vanishing before his eyes.

Drautos could see the odds as well. Knew that Nyx was injured, struggling to cover a wounded friend and a noncombatant, all while trying to relearn a fighting style on the fly. Maybe he would have had a chance, if the commander didn’t have power armor he’d familiarized himself with long ago, or if he hadn’t let himself get shot. As it was every second he wasted reminding himself not to throw his blade - or he wouldn’t get it back - was another second closer to the traitor’s victory.

Drautos knew all too well they only really had one trump card left to them. And he wasn’t overly worried about their odds of succeeding with that one.

Nyx didn’t like their chances himself. The Ring was a royal heirloom, intended to bestow its power on the Kings of Lucis and them alone. And he’d gotten a pretty good idea what it did to anyone else from the little of Luche’s death he’d manage to catch. It’s not like the Kings of Old were exactly jumping to Insomnia’s defense on the own right now. Odds are they weren't all that worried about the fall of their ancient home.

The best he could hope for is he'd get a chance to speak before they consigned him to a fiery death. Maybe he’d even be able to get them off their collective asses to save their own Ring before he burned? And if they’d do that, if he could buy Libertus and Lady Lunafreya enough of a chance to escape, his life was a small price to pay.

So he mustered a smile for the Oracle, let her think that he believed in best case scenarios. He couldn’t have her hesitating, not over him. Not with her own future to fulfil.

Then Drautos was charging and he was out of time. The ring went on, and the lights went out.

 

* * *

 

When reality snapped back into focus he was flat on his back again. Winded, with bullet wounds stinging in his gut, it was tempting just to lay still, avoid aggravating them any more. Instead he allowed himself a single deep breath before addressing the darkness.

“Show yourself, Kings of Lucis!”

The sound of a warp in the silence, followed shortly by more. Hopefully that was the Kings. He should probably at least sit up.

He wasn’t expecting the first figure of light to stumble to their knees beside him, hands testing his wounds gingerly as an achingly familiar voice spoke from behind the unfamiliar helm.

“Glaive Ulric? What has happened?” A hand hesitated over the ring. “What have you done?”

His anger at the Kings of Old vanished in a heartbeat as Nyx forced himself upright. Only the hand on his side prevented him from struggling into a proper bow. “Your Majesty,” he began, only for his throat to close on any excuse he tried to give. So he ducked his head, unable to look the King in the eye.

“Nyx,” His Majesty coaxed softly, and Nyx felt something in him break.

“I failed, Your Majesty. I wasn’t able to escort the Oracle safely out of the city, let alone all the way to Altissia.” A bitter shake of his head. “The enemy General? Glauca? Turns out he was the Captain the entire time. He knew every contingency, every move we were going to make. I called for backup and he… he sent coordinates. Set a trap at the rendezvous point.” He swallowed, fingers tightening involuntarily around the Ring. “I couldn’t let it end there.”

“And so you chose to risk your life in a desperate attempt to save another’s.”

Nyx winced at the familiar rebuke, an echo of Drautos in the King’s gentler phrasing. Still he managed a small smile in response.

“You know me well, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, well, I _did_ read the reports from time to time. There was hardly a mission you were on that did not make mention of your heroics.” A moment of hesitation, then His Majesty continued in a quieter voice. “I should have read them all. Instead I allowed Titus to manage them, thinking the work would help him cope. And in my attempted kindness I doomed loyal protectors to sabotage and death.”

“Your Majesty could not have known…” Nyx insisted, but the King cut him off with a shake of his head.

“How many died due to my inaction who had sworn their lives to me and believed I would care for them in return? And how many lost faith in a distant king, who knew nothing of the trials they suffered in his name?” The King shook his head again. “No, allow me this responsibility, that I might at least make you the amends you are owed. Whatever power there is within me is yours, freely and without reservation. As it should always have been.”

Nyx’s mind stalled, his chest burning with the memory of his fellow Glaives. They all fit, each and every one, into the King’s regret. He wasn’t wrong to mourn them, and yet… Nyx himself did not deserve anything from this man. Yet His Majesty was somehow convinced he was, and it wasn’t Nyx’s place to tell him no. Was is better to knowingly accept false praise, or to call a king on his words?

His chest rose and fell but it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“You overstep yourself, young king,” another figure interrupted from far above. “We are the wardens of this world’s future. Your warriors must face our judgement. Only then may he chance to earn the Power of Kings.”

“I do not speak for the Kings of Old,” His Majesty agreed mildly. “But there is power within me that is mine to give as I chose, to whoever I decide.”

“And you have chosen a man who, by his own admission, has already failed your trust,” another figure argued, making Nyx wince. “Your judgement of the traitorous Glauca seems to have been flawed as well.”

“My failure with General Glauca, in everything leading to this day, was from attempting to maintain my distance. Time and time again I denied what my feelings told me, believing only actions taken in their absence could be truly wise. No more.”

Nyx froze as a steadying hand came to rest on his shoulder, scarcely daring to breath as the King pressed on.

“When I offered Nyx Ulric a place in the Kingsglaive, I saw a young man who had lost everything yet wanted nothing more than to protect others from suffering the same fate. In him I saw a man worthy of taking that oath. His service has never once given me reason to doubt that. What failures he speaks of are failure to perform impossible tasks. To protect that which I have failed to. To defeat the man I died failing to defeat. All I asked of him was to try, and yet he has given it everything he had left. The man before you is more worthy of the Power of Kings than even the boy he once was. No matter your decision, my powers are his to use.”

In the silence that followed Nyx had to close his eyes against his hammering heartbeat. His rasping breath echoed even as he tried to quiet it down. The King’s hand on his shoulder was almost too much even as it grounded him at the same time. So he closed his eyes and waited for judgement to fall on them.

 

* * *

 

Regis held Ulric steady as he waited for his forefathers’ response. Steady, but also safely below him where he could intercept any cost they tried to enact. Above them ancient kings spoke in glances, silent observation, and the disapproval of the Founder King at being challenged in his own domain.

“I stand with the young king,” The Fierce decided. “If we will not fight to defend our people, who are we safeguarding the future for? I will rise from the Old Wall even if the rest of you will not.”

“He is right,” The Just agreed. “We swore an oath to defend our people, even beyond death. Thus was the Old Wall created. Insomnia burns, and the Glaive has done his part. It is time we did ours.”

The others looked to the Founder King consideringly, but he refused to back down.

“No outsider my use the Power of Kings without a sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice which has already been paid.”

“So you would claim.”

“I would indeed,” Regis replied softly. “Nyx Ulric made a career out of risking his life to save others, in spite of repeated personal cost. He would have given his life for mine without hesitation. Instead I ensured his own safety at the cost of my own, and forced him to watch me die.”

Ulric froze under his hand, and Regis wondered if he’d known. Even at the end, he’d been trying so hard to keep his emotions in check, perhaps only his concern for Luna had shown. Perhaps it was simply easier to believe he cared about the fate of the Oracle than that of a simple soldier from Galahd.

Either way, it was cruelty of the worst kind for him to frame events this way. To force this brave soul to face, head-on, fears that had dogged him since Galahd’s fall. Yet this was the cost the Founder King demanded, agony not easily recovered from. Ulric would not heal easily, but Regis could at least give him that chance.

Above them the balance had shifted, with the Warrior and several others won over to their side. They looked to the Mystic, challenging him to deny the agony of such a sacrifice. And the Mystic caved.

“Very well,” he decreed. “The Old Wall will rise, until dawn arrives to banish the invaders’ demonic support. And the Glaive shall become your blade once more. Bound until his death or you release him from your service.”

Regis nodded, looking down at his charge. “Well, Nyx Ulric, will you swear yourself to my service once again?”

Ulric met his gaze, unflinchingly.

“My life has always been the least I can offer, Your Majesty. Where do I sign?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was sucked into FFXV fanfiction years ago, but recently got sucked back into it again, and this time actually finished a fic I can share.
> 
> The basic idea for this fic came from that Regis' Lucii name "The Father" could be just for Noctis, but it would be interesting if it was also his protective parental instincts towards all his friends, their kids, the people he saved or otherwise wanted to look after, etc. (So almost all his soldiers in the Kingsglaive or the Crownsguard, Luna, Ravus, Noctis' friends, Iris, etc. But without needing the illegitimate royal children idea to work.) The idea wouldn't leave me alone. And since I'm trying to do short stream of consciousness pieces clarifying the characters of everyone in FFXV anyway for another fic, this fix-it ended up being created. 
> 
> (Then I wasn't happy with it and couldn't just leave it alone, so I rewrote it from scratch 5 times? It's not perfect but I actually like it right now, so I'm just going to be happy with being done.)
> 
> I enjoyed exploring the difference in Nyx's loyalty to Regis and his general dismissal of problematic authority figures (like Drautos and the Lucii). His complete lack of self-esteem in spite of being able to stand up for himself makes me sad, but that's how I saw him in the movie.
> 
> The idea of Somnus being sort of a sadist surprised me, but I think i makes sense. Mostly he's of the opinion that fate/destiny is only applicable alongside suffering. Loyalty isn't proven unless it's tested through suffering, and worth isn't true unless it's attained through sacrifice. Comparing this to Gilgamesh's eternal undeath it seemed to match pretty well.
> 
> I'm rambling and a bit burned out still, so I hope this author's not still makes sense when I get back to reading it later. In the mean time, I hope everyone enjoys this fic!


End file.
